


Romanticide

by Likimeya



Category: Hornblower (TV), Temeraire - Novik
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-26
Updated: 2010-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-08 08:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Likimeya/pseuds/Likimeya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1801, Granby meets young Hornblower on board the Renown. Aerial Corps meets Navy; Aviator meets Sailor - a clash of cultures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Romanticide

**Author's Note:**

> You don't need to know Hornblower to be able to make sense of this. To Hornblower fans, on the other hand, knowledge of the Temeraire books is recommended.

As the biting north wind whipped relentlessly against his face and made his eyes water with tears that threatened to turn to ice on his cheeks, John Granby was unable to prevent a huge, gleeful grin from spreading out across his face. This was a dream come true, he thought as he was flying through a low-hanging cloud and was showered by a freezing January rain.

Since he had joined the Aerial Corps at the age of seven, a whole decade ago now, he had been dreaming of this: riding his own a dragon through the sky all by himself, free as a bird and unsupervised, a captain in his own right!  
Alright, he was only pretending to be a real captain, and the little Greyling under him was in fact not his own dragon. He had just been fortunate and had been allowed to act the part for one night.

Captain Dillon had arrived at Dover Covert on Deliciola shortly before sunset, with a bundle of highly urgent despatches and a severe cold. Half unconscious with fever, he had been deemed unfit to fly, but they had thought it wise to deliver the despatches immediately, so as not to provoke the wrath of the Admiralty. Although it had seemed quite unnecessary to make such haste. The despatch, from what Dillon had heard about it, was a change of orders for HMS _Renown_ that called her back from patrol on the Scottish coast to the channel fleet. One could not help but wonder how urgent that could be. A ship was such a slow, clumsy affair; why it could possibly be of importance whether the new orders reached the captain a day earlier or later, Granby couldn't quite appreciate. But that was the Admiralty for you, always full of strange notions, nothing unusual there. And he was far from complaining about this particular order – it had made him captain for one night!   
It was soon decided that one of Laetificat's men should fly, her crew being the largest. The senior officers, however, could not be spared in case of an emergency, and so Granby had been chosen as the senior midwingman.

And here he was, racing through the sky with lightning speed on the courier Greyling. Deli spiced the journey up with acrobatic interludes from time to time, to surprise Granby and to make the time pass more quickly; after an hour of this, Granby was giggling like a schoolboy. On a Greyling, one felt the currents of the air and the dragon's movements so much more keenly than on a behemoth like his Laetificat. Oh, it was a priceless feeling indeed, racing through the air like that on his own. It was everything he had always expected it to be!   
Not that he had any reason to be hopeful and expect that he would ever be appointed a handler of his own dragon. Without any familial connections of any consequence either inside the Corps or outside, the chance that he would be made a captain was virtually nonexistent. But a boy could dream… And after all, it wasn't as if he were asking for much. He didn't lust after something big, a colossus like Laetificat. She was a precious thing, for sure, but he would be more than content with something less ostentatious. He had always been a believer in subtlety, and he had never felt the need to compensate any personal deficiencies with a giant steed, like some people… He didn't need any special effects, either. The strategist and soldier in him could not agree more that it would be desirable for the Aerial Corps to have heavyweight combatants with intimidating abilities. A fire-breather like a Flamme-de-Gloire would be a dream come true for the Corps. But personally he thought he would be a little uncomfortable with something so showy as a flying volcano.   
He had of course been picturing himself on his own dragon many times, like every single boy in the Corps. He could best imagine himself on an elegant, understated middleweight like a Parnassian. Yes, a Parnassian would be very nice.

He was pulled out of his reverie by his current dragon. Deli was whooping now and again, apparently out of sheer delight at being able to race through the keen, fresh air like that. Granby felt a wave of affection for the merry young dragon surge up inside himself. She was indeed a precious little darling. "Of course you would do just fine, too", he murmured.

"Did you say something, Mr Granby?"

"I was just complementing you on your flying skills, Deli."

Deli laughed happily and flew a double loop that almost gave Granby vertigo.

"Oh", she cried when they were parallel to the ground again, "I can see a ship! That must be the _Renown_."

Granby checked his compass and, sure enough, Deli hadn't strayed a single point from their course. He didn't even try to make out the ship in the distance yet. Compared to the dragon he was blind as a mole, and it would be a while before he would be able to see it.   
"Alright then", he shouted against the wind, "let's go for it!" And Deli gathered even more speed, shooting through the dark like a cannon ball. Soon Granby could see the ship, too, or its sails at least. It looked like a big ship of the line and was surely the _Renown_ they were looking for, a ship of 74 guns, he had been told.

Granby felt a moment's misgivings. When he was chosen, the other members of his crew had all looked had him with something suspiciously like pity and had clapped his shoulder and wished him good luck as if he were going as a spy into the enemy's headquarters. His friend, the gunner Christopher Dayes, had even made him earnestly promise to make sure he came back in one piece. Granby had thought their behaviour quite a little bit exaggerated. He was only flying to a ship to drop despatches and back again, how dangerous could it get? His mates' prejudices and suspicions of sailors ran deep indeed. Surely the blue-jackets were not _that_ bad? But now, out here alone in the dark, he wondered…

They were arriving at the _Renown_ now and Deli flew in lower and lower circles above the ship. The largest open space was at the rear end of the ship, but Deli seemed reluctant to land there and headed for the central area instead, where there was only just enough room for her. She easily avoided sails and rigging and alighted gracefully beside the central one of the three masts on what would be the main deck, Granby supposed. He unlocked himself and slid off the dragon's back and looked about him. Not much was going on and not many people were about at this hour. There was a young officer standing on a deck above him – the quarterdeck? –, bent over the rail there and watching him. Granby greeted him with the wave of his hand, which only made the man frown. He was just opening his mouth to say something to Granby, when a cabin door behind him opened with a bang and a splendidly clothed old man appeared beside the officer. Captain Sawyer, Granby guessed.

"Mr Hornblower, what was that fluttering noise and the thump I just heard on deck?" he asked in a rather harsh voice that made Granby suspect that there was not much love between the captain and his officer

Hornblower cleared his throat and nodded in Granby and Deli's direction. "A courier dragon has just arrived, sir."

"Good evening, captain Sawyer", Granby said. "I am… acting captain John Granby. I carry urgent despatches from the Admiralty."

Granby didn't know why, but somehow that made Sawyer frown. "Indeed?" he growled, but sent his servant down to take the bundle of papers from him. "I wonder what could be so urgent that the Admiralty deems it necessary to send a dragon to my ship and disturb our peace like that. One of these beasts is going to set us on fire one day!"

Granby was momentarily at a loss for words in the face of such open rudeness. Deli piped up from behind him: "But I'm not a fire breather!"

Sawyer didn't even spare her a glance. "Very well, Mr Granby. You may wait there while I read the despatches to see if an answer is required and while I prepare my other correspondence for you to take with you."

He vanished back into his cabin without another word. Granby and Deliciola were left behind to look after them. Deli seemed unsurprised, but Granby was rather taken aback by the discourteousness of it all. If the captain thought it proper to leave them out here in the dark and cold, he could at the very least have sent down an officer, or anybody, to keep them company.

But the only people in sight were a handful of sailors gathered in a group at the other side of the deck, and they looked decidedly hostile. They were shooting sidelong glances at him and whispering to each other; their voices, when Granby caught them on the wind, sounded unfriendly and defensive. They seemed to wonder what to make of him and his dragon. Granby thought that many of them were perhaps new to the service, pressed hands and such, who had never before seen a courier dragon – or any dragon – up close. More and more of their mates joined them as the time went on, and gradually the group came alarmingly close to Granby. They looked more and more aggressive, too. He could hear derisive laughter and sneers from them now and again.

Deli had up to then kept quiet. She was curled in on herself in her corner of the main deck, trying to make herself even smaller than she already was and looking more dejected by the minute.

"I'm sorry, Mr Granby", she whispered.

Granby was confused. "You're sorry, Deli? Whatever for?"

"It is because of me that they make such a fuss. I think there must be something wrong with me. My captain tells me I'm all right, but I know he says that only to comfort me. Why else would they always whisper and sneer like that? Perhaps it is because I am so small?"

Granby could feel anger rising inside him. It was simply wrong that Deli should doubt herself like that because a bunch of ignorant, filthy sailors had nothing else to do than to bully a small dragon who was too nice to defend herself. He felt his face go red with indignation.

Then Granby heard at least one of the seamen come closer behind him.

"Did you hear that?" a rough and unfriendly voice said to the other sailors. "The thing talks!"

That was the last straw. He flew around and found himself facing a sneering, violent-looking sailor perhaps in his late twenties. Granby did his best to look calm and superior and said in his most condescending voice: "She is not a thing, and in fact it would appear much more surprising that _you_ have the ability to speak, because from where I stand, you look less intelligent than the average crocodile, never mind a dragon!"

The sailors' laughter and joking ceased instantly, and the whole group watched them breathlessly, wondering how their spokesman would answer to that offence. Granby knew he was in for a fight. The man was smaller than him, but about twice as large and big-muscled. Granby didn't care. What he lacked in strength he usually made up for with passion in a fight.   
The man took another step towards him, in a slow manner that was clearly intended to be menacing.

"What did you say, you worthless little dragon rider!? I guess I'll have to teach you some manners. They sure don't do that in the stinking dragon lair you came from!"

"Oh, I'd like to see you try", Granby spat back.

At that moment there came a cry from up on the quarterdeck. The officer, Hornblower, had decided to become involved.

"Hey you loafers there, belay that, and back to your stations at once, or you'll meet the cat at the main mast tomorrow! Randall, I'll teach you to threaten a guest onboard this ship; you'll see no rum for the whole next week, that I promise you!"

Granby's antagonist looked affronted. "But he started it! Sir."

"I don't care how much you felt provoked, I won't have you behave like a barbarian. Now go!"

Stared down by the officer's furious gaze, Randall went off muttering; the rest of the crowd had already dispersed. Granby smiled gratefully up to Hornblower. The officer invited him with a gesture to join him on the quarterdeck, and Granby went up. Deli fluttered up over the rail after him, reluctant to stay down on the main deck on her own. Hornblower looked a little put out by that, but remained all professional politeness.

"I am so sorry, captain – Pardon me, I didn't catch your name. I am lieutenant Hornblower."

"John Granby."

"And I am Delili... Delicli... - Deli!" the dragon offered, "nice to meet you, lieutenant Hornblower!"

"Hornblower smiled, but rather warily. "Captain Granby, I apologise for the crew's behaviour, it was appalling. I am very sorry that you were subjected to that kind of treatment. I imagine it is hard enough to be a dragon handler – it's a sentence for life, I understand – without confrontations like that. I hope it has not made you feel miserable."

Miserable!? Granby was speechless. What could he answer to this? Hornblower wasn't even handing him a cleverly disguised blow, he seemed to mean what he said and he meant it kindly.   
By George, his mates had been right in everything abusive they had ever said about sailors. It was unbelievable! They had done everything to get their oh-so-urgent orders to this ship, risked their health and crippled a crew – and how did they thank them? First with sneers and cold shoulders, where a handshake and a hot coffee would have been in order, and now with this self-righteous condescension Hornblower was exhibiting. As if to be a member of the Corps was such a dire fate that he had to be pitied, and by a seaman at that!  
Granby's anger flamed up again, and he had just drawn a deep breath and was going to give that Hornblower fellow a lesson in manners, when there was an unexpected interruption: a blond shock of hair was coming up a hatchway to the deck near them. The hair belonged, as became clear presently, to a friendly-looking lieutenant of about Hornblower's age. He looked puzzled at finding a strange officer in green on the quarterdeck.

"Mr Hornblower", he addressed his mate, "I heard strange voices up here – was that a woman speaking just now?! But who is your guest?"

Hornblower introduced them. "This is captain Granby of the Corps, Mr Kennedy, and the woman's voice you heard earlier belongs to his dragon here, umm –"

"Deliciola", Granby said.

"Hello!" Deli squeaked from behind Kennedy. The lieutenant whirled around, and his eyes grew big as bull's eyes when he saw the dragon lying there.

"By George, it is a real dragon!" Kennedy was all excitement. "We've never actually been that close to one. We've often watched the Channel patrols, of course. And we've seen the occasional courier dragon, but only from a distance. They drop their despatches and off they are again. This is so exciting, I am standing before a real dragon! And it – she is wonderful! and she really talks! Hello, lady dragon!"

Granby considered objecting to being gawped at like circus freaks. But the blonde's delight seemed so honest and there was nothing of the condescending and spiteful in his manner, so Granby let it go. Hornblower, too, was grinning bemusedly but fondly at his friend's excited chattering.

"Oh, this is great", Kennedy went on. "For once we are not under deck or on shore somewhere when a dragon comes! Isn't that fortunate timing, Horatio!?"

"Er, yes – yes, certainly, very unfortunate indeed. Ha-h'm."

Hornblower decidedly didn't look as if he thought his life had been so much the poorer without any courier dragons fluttering through it. But apparently he was willing to indulge his good-natured friend. And that in fact endeared him to Granby. There seemed to be a soft heart hidden under his stern and rigid respectable-naval-officer exterior.

"However", Hornblower said, "not everybody was as glad as you to see a dragon on deck, Mr Kennedy."

"Oh?" Kennedy sobered at once. "Yes, I noticed there was a commotion earlier. What was the matter?"

"The usual. Randall is in a fighting mood."

"Ahhhhhh." Kennedy sighed and rolled his eyes. They had obviously suffered a fair share of trouble from that Randall already. Granby smirked inwardly at the thought of what their Laetificat would do to a troublemaker like that. Something like what Randall would do to a mosquito, he suspected.

"If Randall has his fighting face on", Kennedy said, "then I'd better keep an eye on them down there…" He waved at Granby. "It was great to have met you. Farewell and, umm, fly safely!" And with that he left the quarterdeck and vanished down the hatchway again.

Hornblower still looked after him for a moment longer. His face was averted from Granby, but when he turned to him again, the look with which he had gazed after his mate still lingered on his face. The eyes that had stared down the misbehaving sailors so coldly were warm with affection; the hard line of his mouth was softened by a private little smile.  
Hornblower quickly assumed an air of formality again, but Granby had seen, and what he had seen had been revealing. So he did indeed have a heart, and Granby could just guess what was in it.

Granby could not help but grin at him cheekily. Hornblower looked bewildered.

"What?"

Oh, come on now! Granby nodded at where Kennedy had gone down the ladder.  
"He's sweet."

"Pardon?"

Oh, please! "Your friend. The blond crumpet. You go well together."

Hornblower's eyes narrowed alarmingly. "Excuse me, Mr Granby, am I to understand that you… that you accuse me of having an unnatural and illegal… affair with Mr Kennedy??"

Oh.   
Hornblower was genuinely scandalised. But how was that possible? It had been so obvious on his face! Could it be that the lieutenant wasn't even aware of the feelings that had been so plain for him to see when he left his face unguarded for just a moment?  
Time to draw back.

"I did not mean to imply anything improper, sir."

"I should hope so. For it would be a serious accusation indeed. It could in fact lead to a court martial and an execution if there were any meat to it – and rightly so. You dragon riders might not care so much for manners, but here in the navy we still know what is decent and becoming a soldier of His Royal Majesty."

Granby stared at him.  
And Hornblower thought _him_ offensive!?

Clenching his hands into fists to keep himself from giving Hornblower the beating he deserved right there and then, he growled at him:  
"The correct term would be "aviator", but from what I've heard so far, you blue-jackets don't care much if what comes out of your mouths is appropriate or not!"

"You will contain yourself on this quarterdeck, _aviator_", Hornblower shouted back, "or by God, I will –"

At that moment, Deli stirred beside them. "You shouldn't yell at Mr Granby like that", she said reproachfully. "He hasn't done anything to you."

To Granby's relief, just then the captain reappeared, bundle-carrying servant in tow. He stared coldly down his beak of a nose at Granby.

"I advice you and your beast not to pester my officer of the watch, Mister. Here are my reports for the Admiralty and my correspondence. I expect you to deliver them promptly."

Granby was seething inside. Even Hornblower, to his credit, seemed mortified at witnessing a _de facto_ captain of the Corps being treated like a delivery boy. But unlike the lieutenant, Granby had not been raised to stay meekly silent in the face of such an affront.

"Thank you very much, captain, that you deem me worthy of receiving your mighty orders, and for your generous hospitality", he said, putting as much venom into his voice as he could to make sure the dim-wit understood their meaning. "It is a shame that I have to leave you so soon; I wish I were allowed to delight in the fresh air on your deck for even longer! Oh, and I assure you, captain, any pestering that happened on this ship tonight wasn't done on our part. We in the Corps are better behaved than that."

He took the oilskin-wrapped papers from the servant and mounted Deli without another word. Sawyer would survive without his respects. "Come on, Deli, let's be gone!" She didn't need to be told twice. From the corner of his eye Granby saw Hornblower look thoughtfully after him, then Deli catapulted herself up and shot away like lightning. He did not look back.

 

* * *

 

He was more relieved than he would ever have guessed to be back at Dover covert again that night. The flight back had been a long, dispirited one, the exuberance of their earlier journey quite gone. Granby had been in a black temper and Deli clearly unhappy. Granby feared that she blamed herself for the treatment they had suffered, but he had no kind words to reassure her, he felt too helpless and disheartened himself.

After having Deli handed over to the ground crew, Granby went to the main building and met his friend Christopher Dayes, who had been waiting for his return in the common room. Granby all but threw himself into his arms and let his anger free reign. He ranted for almost twenty minutes until all was told, and Chris listened patiently, empathetically.

"And it was so obvious in his face! He might not be aware of it, but he should have felt that what he was saying was not right. He should have felt it! But instead he lectured me and talked to me about the gallows. Why do that? We were all alone on that deck; it wasn't as if he needed to make a statement. But he as good as called us criminals! He was almost as bad as that Sawyer fellow. Those pompous asses!"

Chris sighed. "You see? They really are a stiff-necked folk, those blue-jackets. We told you so! It isn't just prejudices, you know."

"Yes", Granby said gloomily, "I believe you now."

He discarded his jacket and stood in front of the low-burning fire in his shirtsleeves, to better soak up its warmth. He rubbed his hands and whipped back and forth restlessly. Anger soon gave way to sadness, though. He looked so unhappy that Chris came over to soothe him. "Oh, John!" He put his warm hand under Granby's shirt and stroked the small of his back. It was seductive as well as comforting, and Granby had to smile despite himself.

"Cheer up, John, and think of this: you will most likely never meet any of them up close again. Does that sound good? Now come, we should get some sleep and you should be packed away in a thick blanket!"

They went up the stairs to the common sleeping room in companionable silence. Granby's cheerful nature won and his spirits were already for the most part restored when they reached top of the stairs. After all, he thought, there was no reason for him to let the incident affect him so much. In _his_ life, there were no courts martial, cats, and bullying sailors and superiors.

There was a friend in his life and in his future. A friend, a big family and possibly a dragon.

He thought of the young lieutenant, gazing after him in the cold light of his solitary watch lantern, and wondered if there was anything comparable waiting in his future. Would he someday realise what he could have and what could be, and would he realise it in time?

**Author's Note:**

> On Hornblower chronology: The story is movie-verse, of course, with a hint of book-verse thrown in. I let it take place in January 1801. The tv episode _Mutiny_ has the _Renown_ set out from Portsmouth in the summer of 1801, if I understand it correctly, and when Bush comes on board at the beginning of _Lieutenant Hornblower_, he tells us that the other officers have already been on board for a year and that the ship has lately been patrolling in the Channel.
> 
> I made up Dayes' first name, and credit for the title goes to the ever-awesome _Nightwish_.


End file.
